The Scent of Lilacs (36 page)

Zella overheard the plans and said, “Well, my word, David, why don’t you ask me and Wesley along too?”

“Well, I would, Zella, but I don’t think we have any more room in the car,” he said. “I’ll tell you what. You could ride over with Wes on his motorcycle.”

Zella rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what Leigh sees in you.”

“Me either,” he agreed.

“It’s okay, Zella,” Leigh said. “I love to go shopping.”

“I think you might as well leave David at home,” Zella said.

“Oh, no. He’s paying for dinner,” Leigh said.

Later Leigh caught Jocie alone as they bundled up the papers. “Do you think going to Grundy tomorrow can count as a date?”

“Closer than Sunday morning church,” Jocie said. “But maybe not quite there yet. But then again, I’m no expert. Maybe you’d better ask Zella. She seems to know the rules. You think she used to have a boyfriend?”

“Who knows? After the last couple of weeks, I’m ready to believe anything is possible,” Leigh said.

“Maybe you picked the wrong guy to make eyes at. The Lord seems to have overloaded Dad with family blessings.”

“I don’t think anybody can ever have an overload of blessings. I just want your father to start counting me in those blessings.” She looked over to where David was helping Wes load the papers on the cart. He must have felt her eyes on him, because he looked around and smiled. Leigh’s face lit up as if she’d just opened a gift she’d been wanting for months.

Jocie didn’t know whether she was trying to encourage or discourage Leigh when she said, “Don’t you have to have a goodnight kiss for it to be a real date?”

Leigh’s cheeks turned red. “I haven’t kissed a boy since I was in eighth grade and we played spin the bottle at one of the kids’ houses. I won’t know how.”

Jocie took pity on her. “Dad won’t be in practice either. You’ll be in the same boat.”

Leigh laughed. “The same boat sounds nice.”

“Even with all the rest of us in there too?”

“Especially with all the rest of you in there too,” Leigh said. “Instant family. I’m an only child, and I’ve always wanted more family.”

The next day Jocie made a list of things she’d need for school. New shoes, socks, skirts and blouses, bras. Maybe she’d just hand the list to Leigh so she wouldn’t have to ask out loud. Still, she’d
already talked to Leigh about her and her dad kissing. Talking about bras should be a piece of cake after that.

She had her list finished and rewritten twice by nine o’clock. She couldn’t just sit around watching Aunt Love knit and Tabitha nap till her father showed up after lunch, so she rode her bike into town to help Wes clean the press or something.

But Wes wasn’t there. He had taken a piece off the press to the welding shop for repairs. Her father was gone too, out to Hungry Run Road to take pictures of Harvey Smith’s tobacco field that had been hit by a hailstorm the night before. That just left Zella, who put Jocie to work stuffing envelopes with subscription renewal notices so she could pump her about how the stepmother quest was going.

“So I hear your father invited Leigh to church last Sunday,” Zella said as she handed Jocie a pile of renewal notices.

“Dad invites lots of people to church every week. That’s part of his job.”

“Every Christian’s job, in fact,” Zella agreed. “But he doesn’t invite Leigh to his church every Sunday. How did it go?”

“You mean church? Fine, I guess,” Jocie said before licking an envelope and sealing it. “I don’t know. Like church always goes, I suppose.”

“But at least your father asked her. That’s a huge step forward for him. Of course, it would be better if he invited her on a picnic. Just the two of them with a wicker basket full of food, some lemonade, and a blanket to sit on.” Zella got a dreamy look on her face and sighed. “Now that would be romantic.”

“Did you ever go on a picnic like that?” Jocie asked.

Zella’s eyes narrowed. “I could have if I’d wanted to. I never wanted to.”

“Maybe Dad doesn’t want to either.” Jocie folded another renewal notice. “And even if he did, knowing his luck, something would go wrong. There’d be ants, or he’d forget the glasses for
the lemonade, or there would be a bull who didn’t want to share his pasture.”

“Or you’d decide to go along so you could mess things up,” Zella said.

“What makes you think I’d want to mess things up? I like Leigh. She’s going to teach me to dance.”

“Dance? If she teaches anybody to dance, it should be your father.”

“I don’t think preachers do much dancing,” Jocie said.

“Then neither should preachers’ daughters.”

“Of course, Dad might not be a preacher much longer. He’s trying to decide whether to stay on at Mt. Pleasant. Some of them still want him to stay, and some of them don’t since they found out about Tabitha having a baby.”

“Tabitha has a baby?” Zella’s voice sounded stretched and thin.

“Well, not yet, but she’s going to. In a few months. I’m sorry. I figured somebody had told you. Like, maybe Leigh.” Jocie peeked at Zella over the top of the envelope she was licking. She should have let her father tell her, but it was sort of fun causing Zella to go into shock mode. “She knows. But just since Sunday. It was a surprise to her too.”

“My word! She’s just like Adrienne.”

Jocie was suddenly more interested. “What do you mean, like my mother? She didn’t have a baby before she was married.”

The top of Zella’s cheeks turned pink. She snatched a tissue out of the box on her desk and dabbed her nose. “Well, no, I didn’t say that she did.” Zella crumpled the tissue and tossed it toward the trash can. She didn’t seem to notice that she missed. “But she didn’t exactly show much respect for the institution of matrimony.”

“You mean because she ran off and left Dad?” Jocie had never
seen Zella so rattled. She’d actually touched her hair and knocked a curl out of place.

“These are questions you should ask your father.”

“But you knew her, didn’t you? I mean, she grew up here in Hollyhill, didn’t she?”

“Oh, I knew her all right.” Zella got a mirror out of her desk drawer and carefully smoothed down her hair. “Everybody in Hollyhill knew Adrienne, but she didn’t have much time for the likes of me.” Zella looked over the mirror at Jocie. “I mean, if it hadn’t been for me, your father would have gone broke that first year after he took over the
Banner
. Just ask him. He’ll tell you it’s so, but did she have any appreciation for what I did? Oh no. She never even bothered getting my name straight. Always called me Stella.”

“You didn’t like her?”

“Well, no, if you must know, I didn’t. Not that she cared one bit if I did. Or if any other woman liked her. Now, if I’d have worn pants, that might have been different.”

“Are you saying she liked men better than women?”

Zella peered into the mirror another minute before carefully placing it back into the drawer and pushing the drawer closed. “I told you these are things you should ask your father, although heaven knows he’d never say anything bad about anybody, not even Adrienne after all she did to him.”

“What did she do to him? I mean, besides leaving.”

“Leaving was the nicest thing she ever did to him,” Zella said. “Now, I’m not answering one more question about your mother. We didn’t get along. She wasn’t good to your father, or to you for that matter, but my mother taught me that if I couldn’t say something good about somebody to not say anything at all, so that’s what I’m going to do. Not say anything at all.”

“You can say whatever you want,” Jocie said. “It won’t bother me. Tabitha has already told me that my mother didn’t want me. What
could be worse than that? I’m just curious about her. Wouldn’t you be curious about your mother if you didn’t already know her?”

“Some things are better not known.”

“Like what?” Jocie asked.

“Like lots of things.”

“Dad always says it’s better to know the truth.”

“Then he can tell it to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you ask too many questions. The very idea of trying to get me to tell you things a child of your age shouldn’t even be thinking about.” Zella picked up one of the renewal notices and began fanning herself with it. “And telling me Tabitha is having a baby without the least bit of embarrassment.”

“I’m not embarrassed about it. I think it’ll be fun to have a baby around.”

“Well, at least nobody can blame your father for not raising her right since she’s been gone these many years. Seven or eight, isn’t it?”

“Seven. I guess he won’t have that excuse with me.”

“Heaven knows what he’ll have to live down with you,” Zella said. “You act like a heathen half the time as it is.”

“I go to church two or three times a week.”

“Going to church isn’t always the answer. Your mother went to church.”

“She doesn’t now. Tabitha said she hadn’t been to church since she left Hollyhill. I can’t imagine.”

“Well, I should say not. Nor should you imagine such a thing. Not if you want to be a good Christian girl.”

“A week off every now and again wouldn’t be so bad,” Jocie said, mostly just to aggravate Zella.

“Dear Lord, deliver me.” Zella rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Zella. I know I’m being a pest. I’ll get lost if you want me to.”

“That would be an answer to prayer, but you aren’t leaving until you finish those envelopes. Then when you’re done with that, you can run up and get some coffee at the store. If I’m going to have to put up with you, you might as well be useful. Besides, now that you’ve told me about Tabitha, you’ll have to tell me how she’s doing and when the baby’s due and if she’s picked out a name, and what about the father?”

“She’s fine. October. Stephanie Grace. And you’ll have to ask Tabitha about the father. All I know is he had nice eyes.”

“How in the world do you know that? About his eyes.” Zella frowned at her. “He is in California, isn’t he?”

“I don’t know where he is. I don’t think Tabitha does either, but the only good thing she could think of to tell me was that he had nice eyes. And that he was a good drummer. But she’s going to be here this afternoon. You can get her to tell you anything else you want to know.”

“Oh, that’s right. The family expedition to Grundy. Lord help him, maybe David will remember how to treat a woman before Leigh gets fed up.”

“She said she likes having instant family.”

“There’s family, and then there’s family.” Zella reached into a side drawer and pulled out a couple of dollar bills. “Here, never mind those envelopes. Go on and get the coffee before you have to go to Grundy. Who knows what Wesley might do if he doesn’t have his coffee. You know he’s bound to be running from the law somewhere.”

“So you think he might kill somebody if the coffee runs out?”

“I’m not saying he would. I’m just saying it isn’t a chance I want to take.”

J
ocie had the coffee and was on the way back to the
Banner
when she spotted old Sallie in a rickety folding chair out in front of the Grill strumming his guitar. His hat was upside down in front of his feet in case anybody was feeling generous. She hadn’t seen him for a few days, so she crossed over to see if he was okay.

“Hey, Sallie. How’s things going? You haven’t been sick, have you?” She stayed back several steps. It wasn’t good to get too close to Sallie.

“Not sick, just old.” Sallie strummed his guitar a couple of times before he started singing. “I like pie. I like cake, but I ain’t got no dough. No dough, no dough, dough, dough.”

“Okay, I get the message. If I’m going to listen, I have to come up with the dough.” Jocie dropped the change she had from the coffee into his hat. Zella would yell, but her dad wouldn’t care.

“Dough, dough, dough. Do, re, me. Me, me, me.” Sallie grinned at her as he tuned up his voice. “I was born in Hollyhill where folks know my name. I was born in Hollyhill where nobody cares. I was born in Hollyhill where we’re all the same. I was born in Hollyhill where nobody cares.”

Ronnie Martin and Jesse Smith came out of the Grill in time to hear old Sallie’s song. “You’ve got that right, old man,” Ronnie said. “Nobody cares. Everybody wishes you’d just go on and die. The sooner the better.”